


puppy love

by dnbroughs



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Erik is a Sweetheart, Fluff, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Smitten Erik, So much fucking fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, go me, i think this is the first thing i've written where i haven't used the work fuck, mentions of charles's shitty childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 00:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnbroughs/pseuds/dnbroughs
Summary: charles has never had a dog. erik can't believe it.





	puppy love

**Author's Note:**

> i have absolutely no idea why i wrote this but enjoy 2k of tooth rotting fluff

There aren’t many thing that surprise Erik Lehnsherr anymore when it comes to Charles.

Him taking honey in his tea instead of sugar didn’t come as any major shock, and you only had to take one look at his perpetually ruffled hair to know that the man was a restless sleeper. One by one, as Charles’s quirks were revealed to him, Erik catalogued and cherished every one, even his more questionable ones (the great sock-sock-shoe-shoe, sock-shoe-sock-shoe debate will forever go down in history as one of their most heated). Yet no matter how outlandish or seemingly random these facets of Charles’s personality were, not one of them took Erik by surprise. Endearing, yes. Frustrating, sometimes. But surprising? Never. 

That’s why Erik has absolutely no idea how to feel at being completely gobsmacked at the latest revelation.

“What do you  _ mean  _ you don’t like dogs?” Erik gaped from his seat at the kitchen counter whilst Charles huffed at him, holding the teaspoon that stirred his morning tea with a grip that made Erik wince.

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” he sighed. “It’s just that I’m unfamiliar with them, and I’m found at a bit of a loss around them. It’s not like we had anything of the sort growing up.”

At the edge of Erik’s mind, the usual warm presence turned a little colder, as it usually did when Charles’s childhood became the subject of the conversation. The fact that Charles had grown up without a dog had shocked Erik. He could see Brian Xavier now in an old study, a golden retriever sat steadfastly by his feet, or could easily imagine Sharon sporting a pompous puff of a poodle just to stay in fashion. Heck, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Kurt had a couple of bloodhounds round the place just to make him look like the epitome of the intimidating blueblood he paraded around as.

Then again, Erik thought it must have been for the best. Erik knows his Charles, and his Charles is far too loving for his own good, and anything Charles loved, Kurt found a way to use against him, and no animal on the planet deserved to be held to ransom by Kurt Marko. 

Projecting a steady stream of love and contentment, Erik maneuvered himself so he was stood behind Charles, his arms clasped soundly around his waist and his nose buried in his chestnut locks. As the presence in his mind slowly melted back to it’s usual sunbeam warmth, Erik perched his chin on Charles’s shoulder and breathed in his heady scent of Earl Grey and sleep.

“You know, liebling, that actually makes some sense.” Erik mumbled, pressing a kiss to Charles’s brow, and he could feel it’s resulting quirk under his lips.

The warmth in his mind flared as Charles’s lips quirked and he span in Erik’s arms to face him, curling his arms around Erik’s neck. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Erik grinned. “I know how you hate competing to be the most adorable thing in the room.”   
It was well worth the slap to the chest. Perhaps it wasn’t worth Charles turning away from him in a huff.

“Oh come on, Schatz,” Erik sighed, trying to get Charles to uncross his arms and turn back round to face him, and Erik would’ve thought Charles was really upset at him if it wasn’t for the constant wave of  _ lovelovelove  _ he was projecting. Really, Charles was very talented at sulking. “I’m just being honest.”

Slowly but surely, Charles turned around, looking up at Erik with those big bright eyes, his rosy bottom lip caught between the cage of his front teeth.

“Do you really think i’m adorable?” he asked, his head tipped down to focus on his fingers, which were absently playing with the string of Erik’s pyjama pants.

Taking Charles’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, he tilted his face up towards his, and placed a small peck on the corner of his mouth. “Extremely.”

Charles grinned that grin that made something airy and achy flutter wildly in his chest. It lit up his whole face, even despite the hair falling in his eyes and the last remnants of a red mark from his pillow ghosting over his cheek. That look could simultaneously undo Erik and put him right back together again. That look could absolutely make Erik fall to Charles’s every whim, and the thing was, Erik would happily do so every time. He hoped Charles never stopped looking like this, no matter how old they grew, no matter how much changed between them: cheeky, bright, and in love.

A pair of arms resumed their rightful place around Erik’s neck as Charles stood on his tip toes to look Erik (almost) in the eye. “Make me breakfast?”

Tucking that unruly hair behind his ear, Erik chuckled at Charles’s brazen exploitation of his, quite frankly, frighteningly honest devotion to the younger man. “Anything for you.”

Charles’s resulting smile proved Erik right. Charles would’ve won the hypothetical competition. Hands down.

 

It had been three whole weeks since their conversation and Erik couldn’t get it off his mind. How could Charles have never had a dog? Surely every child wanted a dog, though Erik supposed that wanting and having were two completely different things.

Erik always had dogs. He can’t remember a time when he didn’t. The big dogs were always his father’s. There was Sammy the Doberman, and then there was K ä se (named by three year old Erik), the German Shepherd. Jakob loved his dogs and cared for them greatly, and Erik still has fond memories of his father’s large hands petting each dog on the head as he came in from work, without fail. 

Edie always had a pup following her around, too. Generally, they were smaller, and tended to be lap dogs that would run around her feet and yap at anyone that dared to get close. After his father died and Erik moved out, he took some comfort knowing that Edie had a pint sized guard dog to look after her while he wasn’t around, even if it did bite at his fingers and bark incessantly at the back door when he tried to sneak a smoke.

Technically, K äse was Erik’s dog. Erik was only young when they got him as a puppy, and as such, they grew up together. He followed Erik around everywhere, and seemed to have a special gift of knowing when Erik was fed up, and would curl up at the end of his bed and nose at his leg until Erik caved and gave him attention. According to his mother, it wasn’t unusual to find him sprawled out asleep on the couch with K äse lying on top of him, acting as some form of blanket. It wasn’t exactly hard, either, considering the dog almost grew to be the same size as Erik.

His heart ached for Charles then. His dog was one of the greatest friends he ever knew, as sad as he thought it sounded. It was a constant in a life full of inconstants. No matter what happened in Erik’s life, he could guarantee that at the end of the day, there would be a mountain of a dog scratching at his bedroom door for walkies. 

Charles had Raven, though, and he tried to comfort himself with the thought that Charles perhaps wasn’t completely alone in that big, cold house. Yet, he knew the troubles he and Raven had in regards to his telepathy, and a small part of Erik wanted to grieve for the young boy who could never fully be himself around his own family. 

He expressed all this to his mother one Sunday afternoon. Usually, Charles would be with him (Edie adored Charles, and Erik suspected that she adored him more than Erik at times) but midterms wouldn’t mark themselves, so it gave Erik and his mother an ample opportunity to talk about the telepath.

“I just feel like he’s missed out, mama.” Erik sighed, swishing the dregs of his coffee around in his cup, drumming the fingers of his free hand on the table.

That hand was quickly covered by Edie’s, forcing Erik to look up to his mother’s kind smile and lined face. “Who says he still can’t have it?”

 

 

It took him a week for him to organise everything, but he finally did it. It was easy enough to hide the supplies he’d bought for the dog, considering Charles loathed to step foot in his office (“Honestly, Erik, must you decorate using  _ only _ magenta?”), and actually going about adopting the dog without Charles knowing had been particularly smooth sailing. The hard parts really had been trying not to think about it, lest he accidentally broadcast his plans, and actually choosing the dog to bring home, but he was happy with his decision.

So, that Friday, Erik took a detour on his way home from work to pick up the puppy from the shelter, and once the paperwork was all sorted, he was driving back home with the dog safely in the carrier in the passenger seat, and Erik tried not to speed home.

As soon as he opened the front door, he felt Charles’s brilliant mind greet him, and he pushed his acknowledgement back at him, sending him the equivalent of a mental kiss.

“Charles?” he called out, toeing off his shoes whilst holding the dog in his arms.

“In here, darling.”

Erik peeped his head around the door, finding Charles capping the lid on his pen and smiling up at you.

“I have a surprise for you.” He blurted before Charles could speak, and he could feel Charles’s curiosity spark in his head. 

Opening the door fully, Erik stepped inside and strode over to the desk, the tiny Corgi held safely in his arms. Hearing Charles gasp, Erik settled on his knees in front of his chair, kneeling up at full height to hold the puppy up to Charles.

Charles’s face was unreadable, yet Erik took the careful pat he gave to the puppy’s head as a positive sign.

That hand, however, was quickly withdrawn to his lap, and a sigh was huffed out of his nostrils. “Erik-”

“Before you say anything,” Erik interrupted, “what you said about never having a dog got to me. My dog was my best friend in the world before- well, before I met you, I suppose.”

Charles flushed, but let Erik continue.

“He was my best friend, and he was mine. You never forget your first pet, no matter if you have them at twelve or twenty seven. Everyone should have that, if they can, and I want you to have that.”

Tears turned Charles’s blue eyes glassy, and Erik still wasn’t sure if this was such a good idea, whether he had had just reminded Charles how lonely of a child he was.

He quickly got his answer, though, as Charles turned his eyes towards the puppy, and then to Erik. 

“Can I hold him?” He asked tentatively, his voice just above a whisper.

Erik’s soft smile couldn’t be helped. “He’s yours, schatz. Of course you can hold him.”

After some careful rearranging, Erik gently passed the puppy into Charles arms. His heart swelled, and he tried to commit the sight to memory; Charles’s soft coos and murmurs, the sheer wonderment in his eyes, his gleeful giggle as the dog liked at his chin and his cheeks. If Charles shed a tear, Erik wouldn’t dare say anything, and if Erik accidentally projected his feelings of sheer adoration for their newfound family of three, Charles wouldn’t mention it either.

 

Later, when they were tangled tightly together on the sofa, the small pup falling asleep on Charles’s chest under the gentle attention of his soft strokes, the low tones of Attenborough filling the content silence between them, Erik asked: “What are you going to name him?”

Charles hummed, biting the inside of his cheek in thought as his eyes flitted about for inspiration. They landed, eventually, of a picture Charles had taken of Erik whilst they were in college, when Erik was at the prime of his mutant rights activism, and a sly grin overtook Charles’s face as he looked up at his boyfriend. 

“Magneto.”

Erik groaned, burying his face in Charles’s hair as he chuckled underneath him. 

“Menace.” He whispered into the curls, chasing his words with a kiss as Charles settled further against him, and the serene hush settled over them once more.

“Erik?” Charles piped up after a few minutes.

“Yes?”

“I’m still more adorable, right?”

With fondness flooding his stomach, Erik sent Charles the image of himself: drowning in one of Erik’s jumpers, lips reddened from being scalded on too hot tea, face flushed from their combined body heat.

“Every time, libes. Every time.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr @ charlesxavirs !


End file.
